


A fresh roll of quarters

by Bluespirit



Series: Wurlitzer Universe [2]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, Future Fic, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-05
Updated: 2007-10-05
Packaged: 2017-10-18 10:11:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/187795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bluespirit/pseuds/Bluespirit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Even after twenty-three years, Rodney can still surprise John.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A fresh roll of quarters

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction & is meant solely for entertainment purposes. No copyright infringement is intended.

John opened the door to find an eager-faced young Lieutenant waiting outside. “Afternoon, Anderson.”

“Good afternoon, General!” Anderson saluted sharply.

John slouched down even farther in his jeans and faded ‘Astrophysicists do it with a Bigger Bang’ tee shirt and grinned. “At ease, Lieutenant. No need for the formality. I’m all retired now.”

“Yes, General… um, I mean…Sir… um….”

John put Anderson out of his misery. “So, what can I do for you?”

Anderson snapped back to attention so quickly that John was pretty sure he heard something actually break. “The Archangel has entered orbit, Sir and is requesting permission to beam a container down for Doctor McKay.”

John nodded slowly. “O-kay. But Doctor McKay’s lab is down the hall, he should be there right now.”

“The container is specifically to be delivered to your quarters, General. Doctor McKay’s strict orders.” Anderson stressed the strict part, having the pained look of a man who knew better than to cross Rodney - they’d obviously met.

“No problem,” John said. “Tell Colonel Mason to beam it down whenever she’s ready.”

“If you could just make sure there’s a six foot square space, Sir? I understand that the container is pretty big.”

When they’d both retired, Rodney had appropriated a small lab for his private use, still liking to work on a few special projects once in a while. He rarely brought any work back to their quarters though and especially not something of this size. What the hell was he up to now? John sighed the long-suffering sigh of a man who’d been the friend, lover and husband of one Meredith Rodney McKay for the last twenty-three years; and nodded to the Lieutenant hovering nervously in his doorway. “All clear. Beam away, son.”

~

John was chopping tomatoes in the kitchen when he heard Rodney arrive home. They still ate in the mess a few times a week but mostly preferred the peace of their own quarters - a large family unit over in the quiet west tower. “Hey, honey! Have a good day at the office?” he sing-songed, wiping his hands on a towel. He walked to the archway leading into the sitting area and propped a hip against the wall, watching with a smile as Rodney bustled in, shedding his laptops (plural, of course, a genius always needed more than one) and data pad, his jacket and then his shoes - all without looking up.

“Hah - take that!” Rodney fist-pumped the air as the small device in his hand made a series of cheery chirps and whistles, and then tossed it casually onto an end table and walked straight into John’s arms, kissing him firmly. “Excellent day, thank you,” he said breezily. “Radek and I managed to squeeze another three percent productivity from the thermal generators and I’ve just beaten my previous high score at Asteroids!”

“Glad to see all the years of practice have finally paid off there, Tex. You’re a regular sharp-shooter,” John smirked and chased Rodney’s laughter with a kiss. “Shouldn’t you and Radek leave something for the actual science team to do now and again, maybe? We wouldn’t want them feeling left out.”

“Oh, they’ve got plenty to spare,” Rodney said, waving a hand dismissively.

It was true - since Pegasus had found peace, Atlantis’s scientists had finally been free to explore the wealth of knowledge and technology left behind by the Ancients. Rodney and Radek, and a few of the other retired members of the expedition who had chosen to remain on Atlantis, just liked to dabble now and again.

“Would some of that spare now be taking up a large portion of our sitting area?” John asked with an arched eyebrow, nodding towards the large metal packing container currently looming in the corner between the entertainment centre and his second best set of golf clubs.

Rodney spun around and stared. “Oh, wow. It’s here? It’s actually here,” he said, suddenly looking just a little unsure of himself.

Rodney was never unsure of himself. “Rodney?” John asked quietly, his eyes narrowing. “What did you do?”

“Nothing! It’s not a project... not anything Ancient,” Rodney exclaimed and then smiled a little shyly. “Um, I got it for you,” he said, taking John’s hand and leading him over to the container. “Oh, God, I hope you like it. I heard they were tearing the old place down and I couldn’t let it get trashed that way. I wanted you to have it.”

“Wanted me to have what?” John asked. He had no clue what Rodney was talking about.

Rodney grinned and rocked back on his heels, excitement clearly having won over the uncertainty. “Wait and see.” He kissed John lightly and then tapped a command into the keypad of the container, causing the side to open up and lift away, revealing the contents.

“A jukebox?” John said in an awed whisper, eyes wide. “You got me a jukebox?”

“Not just any jukebox,” Rodney snorted happily, his chest puffing out a little as he watched John. “Our jukebox. From Red’s,” he added proudly, gesturing with a wildly elaborate arm sweep that would have done Vanna White proud.

John felt his mouth drop open, and closed it quickly with an incredulous snap. “Our jukebox? You flew a 1957 Wurlitzer from a run-down old honky-tonk bar in Colorado Springs all the way to the Pegasus Galaxy?” he laughed, and stroked a hand reverently down the gleaming chrome and glass hood, carefully tracing the well-worn letters on the nameplate.

“Of course I did,” Rodney said, his smile fondly indulgent.

“Of course you did,” John said, shaking his head, and pulled Rodney to him. He couldn’t wipe the mile-wide grin from his face, so happy to have Rodney in his arms, in his life. “Crazy old man,” he mumbled, kissing Rodney’s ear. “I can’t believe you did this. Thank you.”

“Watch who you’re calling old, General!” Rodney winked and pecked a swift kiss to John’s lips. “Now let’s get this baby unpacked and set up. The records should be in a separate case in the container,” Rodney said, turning eagerly towards the jukebox and rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

~

John flopped back against the mattress with a long, lush groan. “You really are going to kill me one day, you know,” he whimpered, flashing a tired but extremely well satisfied smile at Rodney. “I can just see the obituary: ‘Brigadier General John Joseph Sheppard, US Air Force, Retired - passed away recently in the Pegasus Galaxy, due to the long-term effects of Repetitive and Spectacular Orgasm Fatigue Syndrome’.”

“Oh, yes, how very sad,” Rodney said as he settled himself down onto John’s chest. “And yet I never hear you complaining when I have your cock in my mouth,” he smirked, wriggling around until obviously finding the perfect position and then relaxing into a warm, boneless sprawl.

“Comfortable?” John asked archly.

“M-hmmm, absolutely,” Rodney sighed, rubbing his face lightly against John’s chest hair.

John just chuckled and wrapped his arms around him. A post-coital Rodney was always so very malleable.

Rodney pressed a sloppy kiss to John’s collarbone. “So… you like it, then?”

“Yes, Rodney,” John smirked. “It was a very good blowjob.”

“I meant the jukebox!” Rodney yelped and poked a finger into John’s side.

“Hey! No tickling.” John grabbed for the offending hand and pulled it away from his ribs. He turned it palm up, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss. “Thank you. I really can’t believe that you got me our old jukebox. That is just so cool.”

Rodney lifted his head and looked at John, his expression totally open. “There are a lot of memories tied up with that old thing. I didn’t want you to lose it.”

John nodded. “But not all of them were good,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“It was twenty years ago, John,” Rodney smiled softly. “It’s over and done with. It really doesn’t matter.”

“Says the man who’s still bitter about a misplaced pudding cup from the second day of the initial expedition,” John murmured with a smirk.

“Hey, it was butterscotch!” Rodney chided but his eyes were shining.

“I am sorry though,” John said again, stroking a gentle knuckle down Rodney’s cheek. “You know… about….”

“We got through it and we’re still here - together,” Rodney said firmly. “That’s what’s important. Now it’s time we got some sleep, I need you in my lab bright and early tomorrow to turn something on,” he added with a leer.

“Just like old times,” John grinned and pulled Rodney more securely against him.

Rodney mumbled a drowsy, “sleep now,” into John’s left nipple and then went lax, his breathing deepening almost immediately.

“Yes, sir,” John chuckled and stroked a hand across the soft curve of Rodney’s hip. Rodney was right, as usual, they were here now - still together - and that’s all that mattered. He kissed Rodney’s hair and felt himself drifting slowly to sleep, the faint rasp of Johnny Cash filtering in through the open door and the glittering lights of the old Wurlitzer playing crazy shadows across the wall.

  
The End

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from ‘Wurlitzer Prize (I Don't Want to Get Over You)’ by Waylon Jennings


End file.
